Last of a Hidden Race
by Orinda-is-fire-serpent
Summary: A boy and his firebird leave their island on a week and a half long trip. But when they come back, nothing is or will ever be the same. Rated T for semi-graphic death


((Hey guys! This story is for a fantasy rp that me and a friend are doing. Since we won't be rping this part, I figured I'd write it out. And, since it turned out so well, I'm posting it ^^ I have another fantasy fanfic coming up, but it's a different world and will be much, much longer. See you then!  
-Orinda))

The island of Adrayskli was once a thriving, bustling island. Towns dotted the pale landscape, lush in it's own right. In truth, no sun met this place, for it technically was not of the world. It was the fifth continent, hidden from the rest of the planet through a shield, held in place by the large mountain on the north end of the island. Accordingly, the people on this island had developed some pretty interesting features. All were quite pale, with white skin and white to blond hair. Eyes were anywhere from red to purple, but never blue or brown or green. The inhabitants had also developed a special bond with the animals of the island. Magic was quite prevalent, so over time, people with special creatures had gotten something from their creature. For those with birds, it was wings. For those with anything horned, they got horns too. All lived happily and in peace, as there was no need to worry about war. No one knew about their continent, no one knew anything about their people, their history, and what natural secrets their island held. The buildings were normally carved out of huge rocks, as they were quite abundant on this island. The cliffs were high enough to be used as skyscrapers.

It was through one of these skyscrapers that a little boy, aged about eight, ran. His skin was pale, hair snow white, eyes a lovely shade of red. His black wings were a stark contrast to the people around him, and to the firebird flying behind him. He had chosen black wings to match the black his bird left behind when it released it's fire. Regardless, today was the day his mother was letting them go to the place where in the north, it was very cold. And in the south, it was burning hot. This thing called 'the Sun' shone on both sides of the continent. The white haired child ran to his and his mother's room, one of the ones on the top floor. He opened the curtain covering the entrance and ran to his mother, who was reading on her favourite cushion.

"Mutti! Mutti! You said today me and Phoenix can go to the weird place with the sun!"

The woman set her book down and blew her very light blonde hair out of her red eyes. She smiled and stood up, petting the firebird first, then affectionately patting her son's head.

"Ja, I did say that, didn't I? Well, little one, you have wings. And it's not all that far to fly. May the wind be at your back for both trips."

A bag was packed with food and the boy's sword, along with other necessities, like clothes. The firebird owner waved goodbye to his mother, then took to the air. He didn't know that was the last time he'd tell her goodbye. For when he left, something terrible happened. The mountain began to shake, causing the shield to momentarily fail. Once it was back up, though, people thought the worst was over. How wrong they were. A couple days later, gasses came up through the soil. The plants and wild animals were the first to go. Then, the people started dying, starting with those on the streets. Their beautiful, pale skin melted from their bodies and became nothing more. The rest of them soon followed. The people inside released their special creatures to the water, knowing there was no escape for them. They waited for the agony of their bodies being eaten into nothingness while, with their last breaths, saying words of love, comfort and forgiveness. Everyone becomes a saint when their end is approaching, said an old proverb. It proved to be true that day. The gas only dissipated when there was no sign that life had ever existed ont he island, save for the things that had weren't alive. Dwellings were left completely intact, with food still in the oven.

It was a week after this disaster that they boy got back. The first thing he noticed was the lack of natural life. The soil was barren. There were only rocks scattered everywhere. Horrified, the boy looked to his firebird, who seemed just as at a loss for words. The silence was deafening to the child's ears, the sight of nothing blinding to his eyes. He took a few cautious steps forward, breaking into a full on sprint as soon as he realized that if there were no more living things outside, living things inside houses must be gone too. He flew up to his room... only to find his mother had gone. Her book was laying on the table with a note attached to it. It read:

"Dear Gilbert,

I am sorry I will not be here when you get back, for I know you will come back. There was this gas, that came up from the depths of the planet... I shall not describe to you what it did to us, but in short, it made us no more. Son, I love you. I wish you luck in your life.. and always, may the wind be at your back, pushing you along your way.

-Love, mothe'

The note ended there. When Gilbert read it, an otherworldly shriek of loneliness and loss tore itself from his throat and made the dead landscape echo with it's noise. He stayed only for a moment, in that room, before tearing off into town. He checked every house, every room, every place someone might have escaped death... but he found no one. He returned to what was once his home sobbing. His firebird had tears rolling down it's face as well, putting it's fire out momentarily where the water rolled. Gilbert crawled under his blanket and put his arms around his bird, quickly falling asleep thanks to exhaustion. He hoped that when he woke, maybe the world would be the same as it was when he left.

When he rose the next morning, the remainder of his heart was crushed to find that his hope had been wasted. Everything was the same as it had been yesterday. The white haired boy, last of his kind, knew he couldn't stay there. He needed to get out. Survival instincts took over now. He found the biggest bag he could carry while flying and filled it with supplies. Plenty of bread, salted meat, fruits and vegetables, sweets, clothes, his blanket and his sword. But, his sword would be too small when he grew up. He decided to set out and find a new one to carry with him until he was big enough to use it. Then, he'd bury the little one, and put a marker over it, like his entire race had been denied. He walked outside and went straight to the temple. There was a beautiful sword there that no one had been allowed to touch, on grounds that a great hero had used it to bring peace to the land. Well, Gilbert thought that if the warrior wasn't going to be using it anytime soon, he might as well. The hilt of the sword was encrusted with precious jewels of all kinds. But, square in the middle, was a large circular ruby. The colour matched the boy's eyes perfectly. He took the sword out of it's place on the hero's stone lap. He put it back in it's sheath, laying just to the right of it, and strapped it to his bag. With that, he set out again.

He told everything one last goodbye, then walked to the dock. He looked behind him with a fearful glance, then flew off as if a ghost were chasing him, the ghost of an entire people, killed by the very land they called their haven. The little one landed again in the south part of the place with the sun and claimed it as his home. The only one who could take care of him was his mother, he would accept no one else. So, he simply wandered around the place, getting jobs where he could as a mercenary, when he was old enough. He returned often to his homeland, to see if anything had changed. The plants came back, and with them the animals, but... no people. No one could ever inhabit the island again.


End file.
